


Hot For Teacher

by entropicangels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entropicangels/pseuds/entropicangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since their mother died under mysterious circumstances Sam, Dean and their father John Winchester have been on the hunt for a demon. THE demon. But they've found themselves caught up in other supernatural beings along the hunt. They thought this hunt would be no different. At least Dean thought so. He didn't think he be fighting for his love, and his life.</p><p>When corpses start piling up with eyes burnt out of their sockets, John follows the trail and moves the Winchester boys out to Athens, Ohio where the latest victim, who was supposed to be Dean's English teacher, was killed.</p><p>And there's something weird about Mr. Novak, the substitute that Dean can't get his mind off of.</p><p>Will Dean be able to find and kill the creature before it kills again? Or will he just find love in a very wrong place?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Kid (Again...)

The familiar grumble of the Impala snapped Dean Winchester out of his daydream. His dad John was starting up the family car, ready to drive Sam and Dean to their first day at their new school in Athens, Ohio. Dean was in his final year of high school while Sam was in eighth grade.

The horn honked, and Dean got up from his unfinished bowl of cereal at the table in the squat seating arrangement that made up a small portion of the motel room they were staying in. Sam was already out with their Dad in the car, so Dean locked up the door to their motel room. 

Turning up the collar on his dad’s old leather jacket as there was a slight drizzle, Dean headed into the passenger side of the Impala. His dad started up the car without a word, pulled out of the parking spot in front of the motel room, and drove away.

***

The school wasn’t much of a sight to behold. Dean and Sam squinted at it through the rain and mud splattered windows. It was a three story building with a rusted metal roof that looked the colour of dried blood. “Athens High School” was proudly displayed above the large wooden doors and under the name it read, “Established 1901.”

“Now, remember what I told you both. Look out for each other. There’s some sort of creature lurking around this town, so keep on the lookout. If you see any signs let me know,” John Winchester said shifting in his seat to make sure he looked both of his sons in the eye.

Of course their dad would be focused on a hunt rather than wishing them well on their first day at a new school, but that was nothing new. “Like what?” Sam piped up, his voice cracking.

“Just anything Supernatural,” John answered, turning on the radio which blared some AC/DC. Sam and Dean took that as their cue to leave.

As soon as the boys shut the doors to the Impala, their father drove off, splashing their ankles and shoes with mud. The boys sighed and headed up the long sidewalk that lead to the doors of the school. Once they entered, the hallways were a flurry of movement and noise. The main office was just beside the doors where they could get their schedules for the day. Thankfully, as soon as they entered the noise silenced.

As soon as the Winchester boys both got their schedules, they went their separate ways. Not before Dean said, “remember what Dad said. Keep your eyes open, Sammy. Tell me whenever you see anything weird.”

“Dean…what are you going to do?” Sam said, keeping eye contact with his brother.

“Just do it okay? I’m old enough to do hunts on my own, and this is just a normal hunt. No biggie.”

Dean soon later wished that this would be a normal hunt.


	2. Mr. Novak

Dean entered his first class, bombarded by a smell which seemed to be a mixture of B.O. and Axe Body Spray. Disgusting.

He brushed past a student perched atop a desk like he was some zoo animal to the back of the class. He always liked the back of the class as you could see the entirety of the classroom and there was a quick exit through the window just in case. Nothing really happened even though Dean did this, for that he was thankful because he didn’t feel like jumping out of a third story window.

Soon the bell rang, the students headed back to their seats and opened up their school books, prepared the work ahead. The teacher was yet to arrive, so Dean took the opportunity to put his muddy boots up on the desk and leaned back in his chair.

The door to the classroom opened, revealing a man with dark brown hair tousled, and piercing blue eyes. They looked directly at Dean, as if seeing into his very soul. He felt as if he were naked. Slowly, he gulped, sat up and removed his muddy boots from his desk.

The man continued into the classroom, and placed a large leather bag on top of the large desk at the head of the class. He wore a blue sweater-vest with a plaid button-down and jeans. He face broke into a smile and his eyes finally left Dean’s, scanning the classroom.

“Good morning students. My name is Mr. Novak and I will be teaching this class today and for the foreseeable future,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, and made chills run down Dean’s spine.

A hand perked up in the air at the front of the class, a teacher’s pet probably eager to make a first impression.

“Where is Mr. Evans? Is he alright?” the girl said, with a lisp.

Mr. Novak’s smile broke, and he stared at the girl, his eyes seeming to bore through her onto the student behind her.

“He—well, he has gone missing over the weekend. Nobody knows where he is,” Mr. Novak said, staring at Dean again. 

Silence fell over the classroom, someone coughed. Mr. Novak smiled again, “but, I’m sure your teacher will be found soon. No need to worry about him.”

That seemed to reassure the class a bit, but there was still a buzz of underlying conversation throughout the room. Dean brushed some of the mud off his desk, trying to avoid the eye of Mr. Novak.

“Now, erm, does anyone know where Mr. Evans left off in his teaching? He is…was your English teacher?” Mr. Novak asked. “How about you?” He looked directly at Dean.

Everyone in class shifted in their seats to look at him. Dean licked his lips, “uh, actually, Mr. N, I am kinda new here as well,” he said, fingering the amulet around his neck.

“Welcome to Athens high school, uh…”

“Dean. Dean Winchester,” Dean answered.

“Nice to meet you Dean,” Mr. Novak said, as if testing out the name to see how it tasted in his mouth. “Anyone else?”

Dean let out a breath. There was definitely something fishy going on and he was going to figure out what.


	3. The Body

Dean skipped his afternoon classes to check out the library. Usually his dad and Sam were the ones in the family that had book smarts and would even dare set foot in a library, but Dean had to figure out what was going on in this town.

It was weird that his teacher went missing. But at the same time his dad was tracking some creature? They had to be connected somehow.

Going into his backpack, Dean pulled out his dad’s prized possession. John Winchester’s journal. Every single thing on every baddie he hunted was in there. Before Dean left the motel room that morning he took it from under his dad’s mattress and stuffed it in his backpack.

He opened the journal to the most recent page, and a few newspaper clippings and a crime scene photo fell out. Dean picked up the glossy photo off the ground. It was a photo of a dead woman, everything untouched except for two burnt holes where her eyes should have been. It was like someone took a burning hot trowel and scrapped her eyes out of her sockets.

He flipped through the newspaper clippings, all from various states around Ohio, tracing back months. Reading his dad’s journal it seemed that his father had no idea who or what it was that was killing all these people.

“Dean?”

Dean scrambled for the clippings and his father’s journal and hid them behind his back as he turned around.

“Hey, Sammy! What’re you doing here?” Dean said, awkwardly.

“School’s done. I have been looking for you everywhere, man. Dad called. He said we had to come home. Like right now,” he said, adjusting the straps on his backpack.

“Alright, just give me a minute,” Dean mumbled, turning his back to Sam. He shoved the clippings in a random page in Dad’s journal and closed the thick tome.

“What the heck are you doing with Dad’s journal?” Sam said, a twinge of fear in his voice. He knew what John would do if he found out that Dean took his journal.

“None of your business, Sammy. Just leave well enough alone,” Dean said, shoving the journal in his backpack.

“You know what he would do Dean,” Sam said, quietly. “What are you doing with it anyway?”

Dean sighed, “I’m looking for more information on the baddie that Dad’s hunting.”

“And why would you do that? You think you can take it on yourself?” Sam asked.

“Maybe I can. What difference does it make?”

“What difference does it make? Dean!” After a look from the librarian, Sam quieted down. “Dean, you could get yourself killed. If not, imagine what Dad would do…”

“Enough Sammy, I’m eighteen for Christ’s sake! I’m legally allowed to do whatever the hell I want. Dad or even you, can’t stop me.”

“Fine, Dean. I get it. Let’s just go okay?”

They left the library without speaking to each other. Dean didn’t understand why Dad would be so quiet about this hunt. What was so different or dangerous about it? Dean and John went on plenty of hunts together.

Suddenly, as the boys were walking through the empty halls, a scream rang out. The boys ran toward it on instinct. They came upon a door to an office that read “Mr. Evans.” Dean pushed open the door and Sam gasped.

There, on the floor with eyes burnt out of their sockets, was who appeared to be Mr. Evans. He wasn’t quite fresh either, the boys covered their mouths and noses at the fowl stench. The woman who stood near the body was still screaming.

“Call 911,” Dean told Sam. He knelt down beside the body. Dean couldn’t help but stare into the endless blackness of Mr. Evans’ eyes. 

Dean figured he had no excuse not to help out on this hunt, especially if the creature was at the school. Even if his Dad still refused, Dean was going to figure out who this creature was. No matter what it took.


	4. Healed

Dean and Sam came back to the Motel room, shaken to the core about what they saw back at the school, to find that the Motel room was torn apart. Their Dad’s back was to them, digging around in a bureau.

“Dad, what the hell happened?” Dean said, entering the room with Sam close behind him.

John Winchester turned to face his son, his mouth in a tight line. “Give it back, Dean,” he said, curtly, his voice full of venom.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Dean said quickly, tightening the grip on his backpack straps.

John started towards his son, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt. “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about, son. The journal,” he said, pulling Dean close so that he was inches from John’s face.

“I honestly don’t know…” Dean started, but he didn’t finish as his father was violently yanking the straps of his son’s backpack off of him. As soon as he got the bag off, John pushed his son back.

Dean fell, his face hitting the edge of the table on the way down. Sam let out a choked shriek and backed away from his father.

John ripped open the zippers on the bag and pulled out his journal. Dean slowly pushed himself up off the floor, the right side of his face screaming with pain. He turned to his father, tears blurring his vision. He felt his forehead, his fingers coming back bloody.

“Why were you late?” John asked Sam, who was slowly inching away from his father.

“We found another body. Eyes burnt out of their sockets,” Dean said, swaying slightly on his feet. “What’s going on here, Dad?”

***

Cupping his hands full of cool water, Dean splashed it in his sore face. The cut above his eyebrow stung. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, a purplish blue blob covered his right eye and the top part of his cheek. A cut or a bruise was nothing to him, but he hated having people stare when it was on his face. He didn’t want to have a type.

His father hadn’t answered his nor Sam’s questions, but left with his journal, probably on his way to check out the crime scene. The only thing Sam and Dean found for dinner was a dinner tray for one so Dean let Sam eat it.

Dead left the school washroom and entered first period just in time to for the bell to ring. Dean bumped into Mr. Novak on the way to his seat.

He turned, smiling. “Dean,” he said, as his face fell. Mr. Novak pursed his lips as if he was about to say something else, but thought better of it.

Dean felt the students and Mr. Novak’s eyes on his face as he went back to his seat.

“Yesterday we were discussing theories from experts involving The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. But there was one we hadn’t yet discussed,” Mr. Novak began. 

The teacher’s pet in the front row promptly put her hand up. “There are some that believe that Nick was in love with Gatsby,” she said, pronouncing Gatsby as Gath-bee.

“Right,” replied Mr. Novak, his piercing blue eyes landing on Dean.

Dean flushed bright red, and feeling almost faint, he stood up and walked towards the front of the classroom. “I need some air,” he gasped in the direction of Mr. Novak.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” Mr. Novak asked.

Dean stumbled back and out of the classroom, not bothering asking for a hall pass. Thankfully, the washroom was right next to the classroom. Did he have some sort of concussion?

Tripping towards the sink, Dean ran the cool water over his hands and bent his head down to drink some water straight from the tap. Maybe that would make him feel better.

He took look at himself in the mirror and spat out what was in his mouth. The cut, the bruise, and any other mark on his face was just simply gone.


	5. Confrontations

Dean skipped the rest of the school day after the whole “healing” incident. He spent most of his time in the library scouring the internet for any lore on the creature Dad was hunting and to see if it had any connection with what Mr. Novak was. He was definitely something.

After hours hunched over a computer keyboard typing into Google anything he could think of, he sighed and logged off. He decided it was time to get his Dad’s help on this one even despite what his father did last night. He grabbed his leather jacket off the back of his chair and left the library. 

As he walked through the halls he rubbed his face, searching for any dent or mark that left a trace of his injuries, but no dice. Turning a corner, he saw Mr. Novak walking in his direction, parting a sea of boys Dean’s age. Backing up behind the corner, Dean peeked over at him. He looked normal enough.

“Hey, faggot,” one of the boys shouted to Mr. Novak’s back. He had a black sagging Mohawk and a septum piercing.

Mr. Novak turned to the boy. “What did you just refer to me as?” he said.

“Just saying, teach. I don’t wanna read no faggot book,” Mohawk boy said, holding up a copy of The Great Gatsby.

Dean figured the boy must have been in his English class today. Without flinching, Mohawk boy ripped the paperback in half, making the torn pages scatter.

Mr. Novak started towards Mohawk boy, but his friends grabbed him by the arms. He struggled, but his efforts were fruitless.

Dean checked behind him, there was no other teacher or student to be seen. He turned back just in time to see Mohawk boy punching Mr. Novak to the ground. Mohawk boy and his friends started kicking him.

Dean moved from his hiding spot into the open. “Don’t you know not to kick a man when he’s down?”

Mohawk boy paused mid-kick, a quizzical look on his face. “Who’re you?”

“Dean, the guy who’s gonna kick your ass in the next thirty seconds if you don’t lay off him,” Dean replied, walking towards the group.

“Yeah, right,” Mohawk boy scoffed. 

Bringing up his fist, Dean punched the kid right in the nose. As fast as Dean punched him, he went down. The rest of his gang scattered, running off.

Dean held out a hand for Mr. Novak, and he took it, pulling himself up. He had a nose bleed and blood was running from his mouth, but otherwise Mr. Novak was fine.

“Thank you, Dean,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Don’t mention it,” Dean replied.

***

“In what planet would students be beating up teachers, anyway?” Dean asked, handing Mr. Novak a couple of Kleenexes so he could wipe his face.

“I suspect…never mind. I’m just glad you were there to help,” Mr. Novak replied, pressing the tissues to his bleeding nose.

“What? What did you suspect?” Dean prodded, crossing his arms at his chest.

Mr. Novak gave sort of a throaty laugh. Checking the bloody tissue, he smiled and said, “I suspected he was possessed.”

Dean choked a little. “R-really? Possessed by what?”

“A demon.”

Dean gave a hard look at Mr. Novak. He didn’t seem like a hunter, with his bright purple sweater still visible in the dim classroom, but then again hunters disguised themselves all the time. And that didn’t explain how Mr. Novak healed him. Was he some sort of witch?

“What are you?” Dean spat, backing away from his teacher.

“I am Castiel, an Angel of the Lord.”


	6. Truth

Dean couldn’t help but burst into laughter, but Castiel’s face was serious.

“An angel, like I haven’t heard that from every chick I’ve hooked up with,” Dean chortled.

“This is very important. I don’t understand what’s so funny,” Castiel said, his only answer was Dean’s dying laughter.

“You’re serious?” Dean asked, looking into those eyes he has always tried to avoid.

“I was sent down to this plane by God himself to aide in riding the world of demons.”

“So, you’re our mysterious killer. Those people you killed were demons? You do realize there’s humans in there, right?”

“It’s a necessary sacrifice for the good of all who walk this Earth, surely you understand. Being a hunter, you yourself has to have made sacrifices,” Castiel said.

“How did you know that I’m--? Nevermind,” Dean replied, pacing.

Castiel’s eyes followed the Winchester boy as he made his frantic movements. He never understood why humans did these sort of things.

“Why can’t you just exorcise them?” Dean asked, facing Castiel again.

“Sacrifices must be—“

“Yeah, you said that. You’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well you should.”

Castiel shut his mouth. Turning the bloody tissue over and over in his hands, he pondered Dean Winchester. He was unlike any human he had ever met. “Why did you leave my class today, Dean?”

“It’s complicated. Why did you heal me?” Dean shot back, trying to match the intensity of Castiel’s gaze.

“You were injured. How did it happen?”

“None of your business,” Dean snapped, shutting his eyes, feeling tears threatening to fall.

When Dean opened his stinging eyes, Castiel was right in front of him. A burning teardrop fell onto Dean’s cheek. Castiel softly wiped it away with his thumb, resting it on his cheek seconds longer than he needed to.

“Dean…” Castiel started.

On instinct, Dean grabbed Castiel’s face and pulled it to his, softly pressing their lips together. As soon as their lips touched it was if sparks exploded in Dean’s brain.

Castiel pulled away quickly. “Dean I…”

“Yeah, sorry,” Dean replied, taking a step back.

“No need to apologize. It was actually… euphoric.”

Stepping closer to Dean, Castiel kissed him on the cheek before leaving the room.

“Woah,” Dean breathed, touching the spot on his cheek where Castiel had kissed him.

Was he gay? He had never had an attraction to a man before, let alone a teacher. That kiss…it was something he’d never do in a million years, but it happened and he liked it.


	7. Confessions

Dean was still light headed as he stumbled into the Winchester’s motel room. His mind was swirling and his lips and cheek were still tingling.

His dad was gone, probably out following a lead, which Dean was thankful for. He hadn’t spoken to him since he got hurt and didn’t plan on speaking to him. However, Sam was there, watching the news on low volume while he did his homework.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said, trying to hide the glee in his voice.

“Where have you been? I was supposed to meet you out front after school, but you never showed,” Sam said, prying his eyes away from his Math textbook.

“Sorry, I got caught up with something. School stuff,” Dean replied, not wanting to tell Sam anything about his encounter with Mr. Novak, Castiel.

Dean plopped down on the bed opposite Sam, and pulled out his copy of The Great Gatsby. He might as well read it, maybe he could at least try in Castiel’s class.

After a bout of silence, Sam spoke up, “You seem…different, Dean.”

Dean looked up from the book, “Yeah? How so?” He asked, blocking his twitching face from view.

“I don’t know, ever since we came to this town, you’ve been, well… different,” Sam replied, fiddling with his pencil. “I feel like you’re keeping stuff from me. And if you’re keeping stuff from me, it’s obvious you’re keeping stuff from Dad.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is it a girl?”

“No,” Dean said, trying to focus back on the book.

“Is…is it a guy?”

“No! Sammy…”

Sam dropped his pencil. “It is, isn’t it?”

“No! Sam, can we just drop—“

“Did you kiss him? Is that why you’re acting so weird? Who is he?”

Dean stood up, dropping The Great Gatsby on the floor with a loud thunk. “This is none of your business, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Shut up!” Dean yelled, his face reddening.

“It’s fine, I don’t care Dean. As long as it’s someone you care about, I’m cool,”

“Really?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, man. Who is he, though?”

“The thing is… he’s kind of my English teacher…”

“Your what?” Sam gaped, shocked.

“He’s…he’s an angel Sammy. They’re real.”

“An angel? Wait…you’re not just saying that?”

“He’s the one who’s been killing all those people. The people, are actually demons.”

“Demons? Here?”

“Yeah. He’s been killing them.”

“Why doesn’t he just exorcise them?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s saving people, just like we do.”

Sam stood up and picked up the cord phone, “we have to call Dad and tell him.”

“No! You know what he’ll do, he doesn’t care! If it’s not human, he kills it.”

“Alright, I won’t tell him,” Sam said, putting down the phone.

“Thank you,” Dean replied, picking up his fallen book.

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” Sam said.

After a few moments, a little voice, one he hadn’t heard in a long time, spoke. “If you think you can trust Sammy you’ve got another thing coming,” said the voice inside Dean’s head.

Dean hoped with all his might that the voice would be wrong.


	8. Attack

After school the next day, Dean met up with Castiel in his office. When he opened the door, he saw there was no trace of the body that had laid there a little over a day ago. No hair, blood or anything. Castiel was sitting behind his desk, chewing on the eraser of his pencil and reading The Great Gatsby.

“It’s strange how alcohol clouds the minds of humans,” Castiel said, not looking up from the book.

“I’m guessing drinking has no effect on you?” Dean asked, shutting the door behind him.

Smirking, Castiel closed the book with a thump. “You know we can’t do this Dean. You’re human…”

“I think most normal people would have a problem with me being your student, but okay,” Dean replied, trailing his fingers along Castiel’s desk till his fingertips touched Castiel’s hand.

“I’m serious. It’s a sin in the eyes of God.”

“Which God do you serve? One that’s an asshole?”

Castiel’s full lips formed a tight line. “How dare you take the Lord’s name in vain. You know nothing. I could smite you with just a touch,” He spat, his eyes full of fury.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. It’s just…I have no idea what to call….us,” Dean said. “If there is an us, anyway.”

Dean held Castiel’s hand. It was as smooth and cool as marble. Castiel’s eyes softened, satisfied with Dean’s apology. Dean leaned closer to him, so that their faces were close together.

“Dean…” Castiel started, his voice hoarse.

“I have been waiting to do this all day,” Dean said, softly kissing Castiel’s lips.

Castiel placed his hand on the back of Dean’s head, pulling him closer. Dean’s hands snaked up Castiel’s shirt, feeling his toned muscles and cool skin. Cas moved closer to Dean, making him sit up on the desk. Dean shrugged off his dad’s leather jacket, and pulled his shirt over his head, so just his Amulet rested on his bare chest. Cas trailed kisses down Dean’s neck and nipped at his ear, and a low moan escaped from Dean’s mouth.

All of a sudden, the door burst open, revealing Mohawk boy and some of his crones. Dean jumped off the desk, and turned around. Cas and Dean slowly inched away from each other.

“Sorry, were we interrupting something?” Mohawk boy said, smirking. “Don’t stop on our account.”

“Omnus Spiritus…” Dean started.

With a wave of his black nail polished fingers, Dean was thrown against the wall. Castiel let out a low growl and climbed over the desk.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast,” Mohawk boy said, waving a silvery stake.

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”

“I have my ways,” the demon chuckled.

“And I mine,” Castiel replied.

Castiel quickly rested his hand on the demon’s face and immediately a bright light shone from his eyes and mouth as he screamed in pain. Soon the light faded and Mohawk boy dropped to the floor, dead.

The other demons slowly backed off, opened their lips and black smoke rushed out of the high school students mouths.

“Woah,” Dean said, standing up from where he fell. Running over to Cas, he gave him a huge kiss on the lips.

“Dean?” said a voice.

Dean turned with a shocked expression towards the voice. It was his Dad.


	9. Death

“ _Dad?_ ” Dean sputtered, reaching for his shirt.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Castiel said, his voice almost squawky.

John Winchester raised his shotgun so that it was aimed at Castiel’s head. “Oh, I think it is.”

“No, Dad—“

Dean screamed as a shot rang out and Cas crumpled to the floor. Dean rushed to Cas’ side, holding his head in his lap, staring at the large, bloody hole in his skull. He cringed at the blood and brain matter gushing from the hole.

Suddenly, Castiel’s eyes shot open and he stood, his forehead healing in front of a shocked John.

“No human made weapon works on me,” Castiel said, his voice booming through the office.

John dropped the shotgun and searched the ground and picked up the silvery stake. Castiel eyes widened, and he backed off slightly.

“Dad, stop!” Dean yelled, pulling his shirt over his head.

“He’s been murdering people Dean. You saw it with your own eyes,” John argued.

“He’s been killing demons, Dad. He’s been saving people. He healed me,” Dean shot back.

“What about the vessel? There was a human being inside that boy and he just killed him.”“He’s an angel.”

“Don’t exist.”

“They do and he’s living proof,” Dean replied.

“He’s not human, Dean. You know what we have to do,” John said, starting towards Cas.

“No! Stop! I love him!” Dean screamed, getting between his dad and Castiel.

John’s eyes darkened. “You can’t love someone you just met.”

“True love has no rules,” Dean said.

“Not with a Winchester,” John replied.

With that he took the stake and shoved it straight into Castiel’s heart.


	10. Take Me Back to the Start

“NO!!” Dean yelled, catching Castiel before he crumpled to the ground. He knelt on the ground, holding Castiel in his arms.

“D-Dean,” Castiel sputtered, breathing heavily and blood forming in his mouth.

“Please don’t do this to me, Cas. I can’t lose anyone else,” Dean said, tears threatening to fall.

Soon, Castiel’s breath came out in shuddered gasps, and they quickened before Castiel let out a sigh and stopped breathing all together.

***

John and Dean finally arrived at the Motel after midnight. Sam sat up waiting for them, and jumped up from bed as John and Dean came in through the door.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“We took care of it. We’re leaving at first light,” John said, curtly.

“Dean?” Sam said to his big brother.

Dean hadn’t shed a tear since Castiel died. He hadn’t spoken to his dad or even looked at him either. He took one look at his little brother and shoved him against the motel wall.

“Hey!” Sam and their dad said at the same time.

“You told him where I was, didn’t you?” Dean questioned, shaking his brother so much that his head flopped around on his neck.

“DIDN’T YOU?!?”

“Y-yes! I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam said, visibly shaken.

Dean slammed Sam once more into the wall, before letting him go. He wasn’t speaking to either of them, not for a long time.

***

The next day before the first light shined in through the motel windows, Dean was packing up his things while John and Sam were out packing up the car. As soon as they hit the next state, Dean planned on hitting the road. He was eighteen after all and could do what he wanted.

“Dean,” said a familiar voice.

Dean turned around and gasped as he saw Castiel standing before him. He was alive and well, no mark on him other than his blood stained clothes.

“But, how?” Dean asked. “I saw you die. I buried you.”

“I’m sorry you had to do that Dean. I’m sure that was difficult for you,” Castiel replied.

“Difficult? Are you kidding me? It was heart-wrenching.”

There was a moment of silence; the tension that was in the air was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

“How are you still alive anyway?” Dean asked.

“Apparently the stake wasn’t the real weapon designed to kill angels. It was a fake.”

“And now you’ve come back.”

“Yes. I…have some unfinished business.”

Dean looked at the man he loved. He wondered what business could mean, but he didn’t care. Cas was alive and that was all that mattered. Dean took a few steps towards Cas and took his face with both hands and kissed him full on the lips. They slowly broke apart and Dean rested his forehead on Castiel’s. Castiel smirked and stepped away from Dean.

“We… we can’t be together, Dean,” Castiel said, simply.

“What?”

“Angels and humans cannot be together. Especially…”

“What? Because were dudes? C’mon it’s 1998 for crying out loud.”

“Still, this cannot happen.”

“But, I love you.”

Castiel turned away from his love. He knew he loved him too, but no human, angel or God would understand their love.

“I have to send you back.”

“Back? Where?”

Castiel raised two fingers and hovered them over Dean’s forehead.

“Cas,” Dean begged, his lips quivering, tears in his eyes. “Please.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

Castiel touched his fingers lightly on Dean’s forehead, and there was a great flash of pure, white light.

***

Dean woke up in the moving Impala, his dad driving and Sam sleeping in the backseat. Dean stared out the window, just in time to see them pass a sign that read “now leaving Athens, Ohio.”

“Hey, Dad. You won’t believe this, but I just has the craziest dream…”

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> A.N.
> 
> Thanks to all my fans on Wattpad who have voted for this story, and in the future. You can visit my story at www.wattpad.com/user/pinkfire103.


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